


i can't be anyone else

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, LMD arc, season 4, stop hurting melinda may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: Sometimes you have to let the silence speak.It always has plenty to say.For a request for May+Daisy+forehead kiss





	i can't be anyone else

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've stayed bout 30984092380 feet away from fic for/about season 4, because let me tell you that season was STRESSFUL for me. But I think we're finally far enough away from it that I'm willing to dip my toe in, so here's the MayDaisy spin on the LMD arc that no one asked for. 
> 
> (also if you can't tell from the summary and tags this is totally g-rated because no one has any business banging a robot...)

_One…two…three…four…_

After Coulson and Elena were busted bugging Senator Nadeer’s office this morning while Daisy had gone in front of the cameras to sign the Sokovia Accords, it had been Talbot and Mace who had the task of talking Nadeer and her staff out of detaining their team in DC…in exchange, SHIELD had agreed to a full investigation. The search for the leak had led them back to AIDA, or at least, her severed head in their vault. It hadn’t taken long for FitzSimmons to put the pieces together, and they had arrested Radcliffe by sundown.

_Twelve…thirteen…fourteen…_

By midnight, the truth had come out—the man in their custody wasn’t a man at all. He was also a robot, like AIDA—a “Life-Model Decoy”. The real mad scientist was nowhere to be found, and Daisy’s heading up the task of hunting him down. She’s already set SHIELD media scanners running, organized the handful of SHIELD communications agents…

Now it’s just a waiting game, potentially all night. Fortunately, Daisy knows how to entertain herself.

_Twenty-five…twenty-six…twenty-seven…_

“What are you doing?”

The twenty-eighth Ping-Pong ball misses its target, bouncing off the edge of the bowl at the end of the table and skittering away across the room. Daisy looks up at the source of the question and encounters May’s perplexed stare.

“Just practicing,” she answers, setting aside the crate of balls on her lap and unfolding her legs from the desk in front of her. “Still waiting for any hits on Radcliffe thought I might as well…”

“So you’re not busy?” May interrupts, her gaze uncharacteristically shifty.

“Not really,” Daisy says, getting to her feet to go retrieve the escaped ball. “What’s up?”

“Come with me,” May says, already walking away. Confused, Daisy abandons the ball and trots after her, noticing the way May’s hands rest in anxious fists at her sides before she catches up.

May doesn’t say anything else as she leads Daisy through the halls back towards the training room, straight through it to the locker room in the back. Once the door is closed behind them, May unzips her jacket and shrugs it off, turning to face Daisy.

“Trade shirts with me.”

The request is so unexpected that Daisy can only blink dumbly, sure she heard May wrong, but the other woman has already stripped off her own dark t-shirt, exposing a black sports bra and the healing bruises from their last mission.

“May what…”

“Daisy,” May says impatiently, offering her the garment, “I just need you to do this. I’ll explain if I can, but I need you to do this first. Give me your shirt.”

Daisy is running out of synonyms for ‘confused’ as she pulls off her long-sleeved Henley and hands it over, taking May’s black V-neck in exchange. It’s size is not quite big enough for Daisy’s long arms and torso, and the still-warm garment it fits her snugly.

When she looks up, May is facing away from her but hasn’t yet pulled on Daisy’s shirt.

“I won’t put it on if my shoulder’s still bleeding,” she says towards the wall of lockers. “So is it?”

Daisy looks at the place where May had been dropped on a table saw during the fight yesterday. A day-old wound certainly shouldn’t still be bleeding, but Daisy shifts closer, squinting at May’s shoulder in the dim light. The gash over her scapula looks deep enough that it probably should have had stitches, and it certainly ought to be bandaged. It doesn’t appear to be bleeding, but something shimmers inside the parted skin. Daisy takes a final step closer, putting one soft fingertip on May’s skin.

“Hey, May…”

Between the healing skin…glints metal.

Her former S.O. spins, eyes locking with Daisy’s.

“You saw it?”

Horrified, Daisy nods, and May mirrors the gesture.

“Good.”

May pulls Daisy’s shirt on and turns fully to face her. Immediately, Daisy’s takes two steps back, her feet sliding into a defensive stance, one arm raising halfway between them.

“Stop right there—“

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the LMD says in May’s voice, and even though Daisy is repeating to herself that this is _not_ her former S.O., she has to say it out loud at least once to make it real.

“You’re not May.”

Silently, the robot shakes its head. Daisy exhales shakily, thoughts racing at all this could mean.

“Where’s May? When did he switch you? Is she dead?”

The thing that looks like May shakes its head. “I don’t know when he switched me, but he told me that the real May is somewhere safe. I don’t think he killed her.”

Relieved but hardly less horrified, Daisy swallows hard.

“We need to tell the team.”

“I know,” the LMD says, nodding, not seeming afraid. “I needed you to figure it out on your own though so that you could do it. Radcliffe’s programming won’t let me.”

Silence finally follows, and Daisy pulls in a breath, staring hard at the person— _robot_ —in front of her, distantly marveling that she too seems to be _breathing_ …

“How long have you known?”

“Just since I got hurt,“ May’s voice answers as the robot gestures vaguely to her—its—shoulder.

“Was that why you went to Radcliff’s place today?”

The LMD nods again. “To confront him. And to stop him. But he put that in my programming too—I can’t hurt him.“

Daisy pauses, chasing down the implications of this fact.

“What the hell else did he put in there?”

The robot in May’s clothes looks away, visibly mimicking the action of swallowing. “He said that I have something to do here, but I don’t know what it is. He said I would do it without thinking about it…that I should just do what I want…”

Daisy feels her own brow furrow. “What you _want_? And what _do_ you want?”

The robot still won’t look at her. “I think…I think it has something to do with Coulson. I’ve been feeling like I’m supposed to be close to him, closer than usual, and I couldn’t figure out why…”

“Do you think he wants you to hurt Coulson?” Daisy asks, her heart rate beginning to climb again.

“I don’t know…but I think he’s counting on me being able to get close enough that I could.”

The LMD is shifting on her feet, rubbing her neck agitatedly, two decidedly un-May actions.

“I think Radcliffe…thinks I’m in love with Coulson.”

Daisy’s arm, which she had never lowered from its defensive posture between them, now goes limp at her side.

“How would he know that?” she says. “He’s barely spent any time with the two of you…”

“I know. And he scanned my memories, my brain…he should know what I feel…But he’s wrong.”

Daisy cocks her head, waiting, and May—the LMD— _May_ finally meets her eyes again.

“I’d die for him, but…he’s not who I have feelings for.”

In the silence that follows, May’s eyes say the rest.

Daisy ceases to breathe for a moment.

_Oh._

She bites her lip, asking with her eyes.

_Are you serious?_

May’s eyes stare fearlessly back.

_Yes._

“But you’re not her.”

Daisy makes herself repeat it, if only to remind herself.

_This isn’t May. That’s not the real May telling you this…_

But the LMD only shrugs helplessly. “I can’t be anyone else. Radcliffe built this body, but the mind…it’s all memories and thoughts straight from…me.”

“From May.”

“From …her,” the LMD concedes, looking stricken.

Daisy takes a small step closer as the robot goes on.

“I’d be willing to bet the real Radcliffe and the real May are in the same place right now. I want to help you find them. But probably…I shouldn’t continue with the team if you’re going after him—I would just be a risk. I don’t know what he’s programmed me to do…”

Daisy nods. “Yeah. We should tell them everything right now though, so that we can figure out how to find May.”

May nods. “But you have to do it. I can’t.”

An awkward silence stretches between them, and Daisy takes a small step towards the May in front of her. She holds out her hand, and the robot looks at her quizzically before mirroring the gesture. Daisy closes the distance and touches the hand, feeling the callouses exactly where they should be, the architecture of the bones ( _bones_?) beneath, the surprising _warmth_ …

Running her thumb gently over the calloused knuckles, Daisy takes a deep breath.

“Does she…do you…does May know that I have feelings for her, too?”

The robot blinks at her, though her face remains characteristically neutral.

“I feel shocked to hear that, so…no. I don’t think she does.”

Daisy nods, looking down at their joined hands. “Well…I guess we have some things to talk about when I see her again.”

The LMD nods. “I guess you do.”

This is not how Daisy thought her night would go. This isn’t how she thought this conversation might one day go. And it would be simple enough to end it here, to save the sentiment for the person who should be hearing it, not this copy in front of her.

But the horrifying possibility that she might not get the chance to say this to the real May, along with the defeated look on this May’s face, squeeze Daisy’s heart just enough that resolve elbows its way in. Before she can second guess the action, Daisy slips her free hand up to May’s cheek, the briefest warning before she leans in and presses a soft kiss to May’s forehead.

Her skin is warm. Her hair smells like rain.

If nothing else, Daisy will have this to remember.

“Let’s go find Coulson then,” she says, stepping back but not dropping the hand in hers.

May nods, tugging slightly at the hem of Daisy’s shirt. “We should probably trade back shirts first.”


End file.
